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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26869051">Difficult Choices</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffier432/pseuds/fluffier432'>fluffier432</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Amy Santiago Loves Jake Peralta, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beating, Broken Bones, Day Two: Pick Who Dies/Collars/Kidnapped, Difficult Decisions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fear, Fluff and Angst, Gangs, Gen, Guns, Hurt Amy Santiago, Hurt Jake Peralta, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jake Peralta Loves Amy Santiago, Kidnapping, Nervousness, Not Beta Read, Parental Ray Holt, Ray Holt Acting as Jake Peralta's Parental Figure, Threats of Violence, Whump, Whumptober 2020, if you assume i know anything about anything you're wrong, no one actually dies, please help me with these tags, unedited</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:02:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>815</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26869051</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffier432/pseuds/fluffier432</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It hurt to see them standing there, a gun pressed to each of their heads. As it was, none of them were injured -- but it felt like they were both dying, like they were both bleeding out on the floor, lifeless eyes turned up to the unseeable ceiling in the dark, damp basement.<br/>Like he’d rather be the one to crumple to the floor than either of them.</p><p>Whumptober 2020 Day Two: Pick Who Dies/Collars/Kidnapped</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, Ray Holt &amp; Amy Santiago, Ray Holt &amp; Jake Peralta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958218</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Difficult Choices</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Surprisingly happy about this one despite what I may or may not have told my friends ahaha. I'm still terribly behind in whumptober but it's fine. Anyway, enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They were making him </span>
  <em>
    <span>choose.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He had to </span>
  <em>
    <span>choose</span>
  </em>
  <span> who he loved more, and the other would die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His wife, or his captain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hurt to see them standing there, a gun pressed to each of their heads. As it was, none of them were injured -- but it felt like they were both dying, like they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>both</span>
  </em>
  <span> bleeding out on the floor, lifeless eyes turned up to the unseeable ceiling in the dark, damp basement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like he’d rather be the one to crumple to the floor than either of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake mentally shook himself. He could negotiate with the kidnappers; after all, he’d sweet-talked his way out of plenty of situations before. Nobody needed to die. Nobody </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just put the guns down for a minute, and we can talk about this, alright? Nobody’ll get hurt if we put down the guns, in fact, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>opposite</span>
  </em>
  <span>--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the problem. I want somebody to get hurt. And I want you to choose who,” the ringleader of the gang said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, so, not exactly what Jake had hoped to get out of this. “Listen, if you kill a police officer, you’re looking at a lot of time. For your own interest’s sake, put the guns down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not a single muscle moved. Not even Amy, who had been subtly trembling under threat of being shot in the head, seemed to be moving, which made Jake do a double take. She was definitely still breathing, he deduced for his poor heart’s sake. Just too tired from the beating she’d received to shake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake snuck a look at Holt, too. Of course, he was as stoic as ever, expressing a grand total of zero signs that he was at all at risk of </span>
  <em>
    <span>dying</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the next few moments. They’d beat him up as well, revealed by the bloody lip and clearly broken nose. If only Jake could be so brave as to stare the man holding a gun to his own head in the eyes as Holt was. Maybe then he’d have a chance at negotiating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For </span>
  <em>
    <span>our</span>
  </em>
  <span> interest’s sake, he says!” Ringleader yells, barking out a laugh before growing serious and leaning into Jake’s personal space. “You’re a pig. You think I believe you group of bastards are ever looking out for anyone but yourselves? Please, for </span>
  <em>
    <span>all our sakes,</span>
  </em>
  <span> think again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole gang roared with laughter, Jake chuckling along nervously in a last-ditch attempt to seem amicable. This was decidedly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> going well for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The click of a gun’s safety unengaging brought a new hush to the room. Ringleader had taken his own gun and aimed it between Jake’s eyes, all signs of mirth gone and replaced with ire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Choose,” he spat out. Jake gulped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A bead of sweat slid its way down the back of Jake’s neck, tickling him and urging him to wipe it away. But he didn’t dare even twitch, eyes locked on the barrel looming in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, there was no backup. There was no Sarge to come crashing in at the last second; nobody back at the Nine-Nine knew they were here. There was no persuading the kidnappers to let them go. There was nothing. So, Jake knew he had to bite the bullet -- metaphorically </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> literally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A beat. The hand gripped the gun tighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not an option.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wanted me to choose. I made my decision,” Jake said calmly, glancing over at his dear Amy, who looked ready to pass out. “I choose me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll kill them both,” Ringleader snarled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I made my decision.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake could see the exact moment it clicked for Holt. The captain turned to get Amy’s attention, trying to implicate Jake’s plan without being conspicuous. Of course, this succeeded almost immediately; Holt had spent his entire life being inconspicuous, and Amy devoted herself to learning all of her captain’s different expressions the first minute she saw his face. Never had Jake been so grateful for their weird quirks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded once, praying they could both see the movement in the dimness, counted a short beat, and swung out his arm. Upon impact with the hand holding the gun to his head, Jake grabbed the weapon and twisted it away, quickly aligning it in his own hands and pointing it back at its owner. A quick look confirmed his desperate hope. The others had understood his plan and carried through; the kidnappees now had the guns </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> the control.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hands behind your head,” Holt shouted, taking over for an adrenaline-crashing Jake. That was the most stressed he’d ever been. Including his wife going into labour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a few moments that felt like forever, Jake finally had Amy in his arms as they embraced for the first time since this whole debacle started. Breathing her in, he decided he was never letting go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a much easier choice this time.</span>
</p>
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